Saving Cameron
by Lafayette1777
Summary: The day may have ended, but Cameron's still got a lot to deal with at home. Cameron/OC.
1. A Perfect Day

June Larimer eyed the unopened locker on the opposite side of the hall with irritation. It was emotion she had no right to be feeling.

"Quit sulking," Her best friend, Roz Franklin, said from the locker next to her own. Roz was nearly six feet, and well muscled with dirty blonde hair always pulled back. She was the star of the basketball team, which, despite her skills, was consisting losing games this season. "You know he has issues."

"I know," June replied, and shoved her calculus textbook, which contained last night's homework into her locker. She was of average height and build, with short auburn hair and brown, almost back eyes. Her skin had the slightest of a brown tint to it, that she got from her mother's Italian heritage. "But that doesn't mean I don't miss staring at him all day."

"Jesus, you're like a fucking stalker." Roz teased. "Cameron should be scared."

June snorted at herself. "Probably."

Roz turned serious. "Maybe he's just late," She offered.

It was unlikely, but June allowed herself to hope.

The day passed as many had. Cameron Frye was absent, as he had been many times in the few years June had known him. Ferris Bueller was gone, too, another common event. Sloane Peterson had left early, leaving under the pretense of some dead relative. That's what June had heard, anyway. God knew what was true and what was bullshit in high school.

She found it suspicious, though. These three missing people knew eachother well and were close friends-and they just happen to all be absent on the same day. June considered herself a logical person, always a problem solver, someone who needed things to be neat and orderly and have a definite answer. To her, this seemed too unlikely to be true.

But then again, no part of this was her business. She only sort of knew this trio-she had known Cameron through Middle School making them sort of friends, gone to a few parties that Ferris had hosted, worked on a science project with Sloane. And if there was one thing June worried about on a regular basis, it was that she would do something she'd regret, and someone would be pissed at her. No, she would find out if she was meant to. If she wasn't, then she could ruminate on it for a while. Something to do in her free time.

When the day ended, Roz said good bye and headed to basketball practice. June began her short walk home, looking forward to her sure to be quiet evening of homework and reading. It was not undesirable, to June at least.

As she raced herself down the school's front steps, she was confronted by a boy with a mane of red curls around his face. His complexion was ruddy and acne scarred, and he shifted his feet oddly. His eyes were glazed over.

"Wanna buy some weed?" He asked June.

"No," She said. "But, a tip: there are three teachers looking out the windows from their classrooms right now, seeing a very distinguishable boy with a bag of green stuff. I suggest you make a break for it."

He didn't pause to say thank you before bolting from the premises.

June continued her walk, undisturbed. It was something she was good at, noticing the small things. She could observe and process things quickly, make decisions that had saved her ass in more than one situation. She could read people pretty well, too, but she didn't trust herself when she did, and tortured herself trying to analyze people's reactions. It was her main source of stress.

The phone was ringing when she unlocked her front door. She dropped her backpack quickly and hurried to catch it. She snatched the receiver from the wall, absentmindedly curling the cord around her pointer finger.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this June?"

The voice was soft and tentative. June's tongue became a useless lump in her throat, and made a gulping noise.

"Hello?" He said again.

"This is her," June blurted. "Who is this?" It seemed necessary to say this, even though she already knew who it was.

"Cameron. Cameron Frye."

"Oh, uh...hi. Are you okay? I mean, you weren't in school today..." She was proud of herself for remembering the English language.

"Yeah. Actually, I'm really good." He paused. June noticed something in his voice, a content sound, one of relaxation. He sounded healthy. "In fact, that's why I called. You wanna come over?"

June spared a glance at her watch. Her parents wouldn't be home for another couple hours, and the backpack full of homework could wait. For this, anything could be put on hold.

"Yeah," She told him. "I'll be right over."

c c c

June pretended like she didn't know Cameron's address by heart, and asked him for directions. She had a very good memory. She had been to his house once before, at a party Ferris had thrown. As she had heard it, Cameron was not happy that it had been held at _his_ house. And yet somehow, Ferris had convinced him. It was a nice house, but not a cozy one. And the car in the middle of the front room was a tad odd.

She grabbed the keys to her family's third car. She was an only child, but her father had a truck for home improvement projects when needed. He didn't drive to work though, and June doubted it would be missed.

She climbed into the cab of the twenty-something year old truck. Her father had gotten it used before she was born, and was so infatuated with it he had paid for the upkeep of the ancient vehicle over the years.

"They don't make trucks like this any more," He had told her more than once.

Her father had taught her drive in this truck, and she welcomed the familiar revving to life of the big engine. Someone had once told her that they used the same engines in these trucks as they did in lobster boats in the Bering Sea. That seemed a bit far fetched, but she couldn't remember the source's reliability. It was a cool idea, though.

She put the truck into gear, and backed out of her suburban driveway. It wasn't quite a suburb; the houses were of all different shapes and sizes, and were set back from the street, but it was still considered a suburb. She relished the sound of the powerful engine and the heavy tires on the gravel beneath her. The body of the truck was green and scratched, and the bed of the pick up branded by loads of rock shaving away the paint. They'd painted it, the summer she was twelve, she and her father. But time had worn it away.

She paused, let a few cars pass, making sure she had a wide turning radius for her big ass ride. She sat above the other cars as she stopped at a traffic light after clearing her neighborhood, and felt powerful.

June continued on her way, occasionally wiping dust from the dash away. She cracked a window for some air. She wondered if the dirt was rock dust, or simply collected from disuse. She didn't know; on weekends she was usually off at various academic events, or doing something with Roz, who was more into social events and people.

The driver's side seat was a wreck, supported mostly by a pile of old newspapers with the original upholstery pulled over it. She didn't mind the slight discomfort, at least for this short drive. Sunshine leaked in the front windows and warmed the car, and June was thankful for the half open window. A feeling of peace feel over her. She was driving her favorite car, on a pretty day, over to a boy's house. She was young. She was happy. She was the quiet, mellow person, and always tried to save moments like this, to realize and remember them when they appeared. She didn't know what she'd remember in twenty years, or fifty. But she could at least try to hold on to the good things.

She pulled into the long, neat driveway, labeled by a mailbox with writing, in elegant script, _Frye._ She had entered a different part of town, an upper class neighborhood where the houses had great, green forests stretching between mansions. Under the dark canopy of leaves, the forest was dappled with sunlight and small creatures darting about eccentrically.

June parked in front the closed two car garage, which was separated from the brown house. She cut the ignition, and gathered herself before taking the steep step from the cab to the ground. She speed walked around the back end of the truck to the front door, and rung the bell.

She waited.

He answered the door with an easy smile she had never seen on his hadnsome face before.

"I'm glad you came," He said.

June raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah," He replied, like that should be obvious.

He shifted his weight, and invited her in, which is when June caught a glance of what was behind him. It seemed the back wall of his house was all windows, letting in afternoon light. The car in the center of the front room was gone, and took her a moment to distinguish the anomaly in the back windows.

The gaping hole.

And the tire marks that lead up to it.

"Holy shit," She exclaimed. Cameron followed her eyes.

"Oh, yeah." He said.

She coould have asked a lot of questions at that moment. Like, _how did this happen?, _or _Where were you today?._ Perhaps, _Are you mentally insane?_

All were perfectly reasonable inquiries, in light of the situation.

Instead, she asked the most important of them all.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

Cameron smiled at her wisely. "Nothing."

Without further adieu, he grabbed her hand and lead her to the hole in the window wall, and they looked down at the car, a wreck among the undergrowth.

"Well, not quite _nothing_," Cameron said, "Strictly speaking, that is. I'm gonna stand up to my dad."

June looked at him, and saw the worry lines released, his relaxed posture. Whatever he had done today, it had obviously given him peace.

"Really?" She asked. "Is that...dangerous?"

She didn't want Cameron to get hurt in any way, no matter how impressed she was at the amount of backbone he was showing in this action.

"Probably," He replied. "But...after today...I think I'll make it. Ferris and Sloane and I, we did some crazy shit today, but everything was perfect. Except for one thing."

"What's that?" She asked, oblivious to the look in his eyes, or his step toward her.

"You weren't there." He said simply. "Ferris said he tried to call you, but you were already at school, I guess."

Yes, she'd arrived early to get something from the library.

"Damn," She said. "Sounds like I missed out."

Before she could lament, he pulled her forward to his lips.

June never thought she'd kiss Cameron this way. Sure she'd dreamed of it, but never thought he'd be so bold, so devil-may-care. She'd always thought she'd be the one kissing him. But his day off had changed that, and she knew it as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Wow," Cameron muttered, pulling away after a lengthy period of time.

"That about sums it up," June murmured, a stunned expression playing across her features.

"Stay with me," He said, at least until my dad gets home.

"Of course," She told him.

June had no idea what Cameron had done today to change him so thoroughly, so much for the better. He was still the Cameron she had fallen in love with, but less broken, in a much better mental state.

A car pulled down the driveway. It was a black sedan, well cared for and shiny. The wheels tossed the gravel aside carelessly, stopping suddenly when it saw the old truck parked in front of it's garage. June could already imagine the look of outrage on Cameron's father's face as he saw the "disgusting" truck taking up space in his polished driveway.

_Fuck you, _She thought, _for ever hurting Cameron._

The door was opened, the suited man's eye widened at the sight of his modified living room.

But Cameron was not afraid. He was not alone.

**Author's Note: There goes the first chapter, I shall update soon. Please review!**


	2. Away From Home

Mrs. Melrose Larimer stepped daintily out of her car, grabbing her briefcase and blazer in one fluid motion. Her heels clicked on the brick walk up to her front door, and her keys jingled as she twisted the keys in the lock.

Melrose's hair was brown and wavy, and few inches past her shoulders. She was an ethereal beauty, small, olive skin soft and clear. She was a loan officer for a bank in town, and worked the standard nine to five hours, yet still managed to bring home work everyday.

In the small front room of her almost suburban house, she pulled off her shoes. Sometimes she wished she lived in a real suburb, it seemed like those communities were more close knit, and everyone always looked so happy, mowing their front lawns, children riding bikes up and down the street. Buy she liked the uniquity of her neighborhood, how it had its own personality and character.

She paused the juggling of her things, and heard the voices coming through the closed door of the entrance into the main house.

She caught the end of her daughter's laugh, and then a male voice.

"Damn, that's delicious."

This was alarming to Melrose. She'd had her fair share of boys over at her house in her day, and had some idea of what could go on. Without any kind of warning, she burst through the door, to something she did not expect at all.

June sat at the kitchen table, next to a boy with a long face and dark eyes. They were eating ice cream cones, and smiling at eachother. Melrose let out her breath.

"Hi mom," Her daughter said with a welcoming smile. Before melrose could ask, June continued. "This is Cameron. His father disinherited him. He needs a place to stay."

Melrose blinked. "Really?"

"Yep," Said the boy called Cameron.

"Well...I suppose you can stay for a while. If you really need a place to stay." Melrose succumbed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Larimer." Cameron smiled. Melrose didn't think that he looked like a boy whose father had just disinherited him, but she shrugged it off and started to prepare dinner.

"Come on," Said June. "I'll show you the spare room."

c c c

The fight had been awful. June had been greeted with a "Who the hell are you?", and couldn't count how many times she thought either Cameron or Mr. Frye were close to taking swings at eachother. They screamed, June cowered. She hated loud noises and conflict. But she was there to support Cameron, and that's what she did.

It ended with her hurrying after Cameron as he stormed out, his father yelling insults after him. It was a ballsy move, what Cameron had done. She wondered if his excommunication would last, or if his father would come to his senses and let his son come home. Until then, she was happy to be able to spend time with Cameron.

They'd climbed into her truck, Cameron with a backpack full of amenities. He wiped his eyes discreetly as they drove away.

June lead him down the hallway, past her bedroom and attached bathroom to the guest suite. Cameron laid his backpack on a chair in the corner.

"Thanks again, June." He said. "This is really nice of you."

"Well, I couldn't leave you out on the street, now could I?" Cameron was convinced that if he stayed with Ferris, he'd end up accidentally driving another car off a cliff, but this time he'd still be in it.

"I'm gonna go do my homework," Said June. "If you need anything, my room's down the hall." She strolled out, and as soon as she was out of sight, her face broke out into an uncontrollable grin. She leaped over the threshold of her room, and crashed down on her bed in glee. Cameron had kissed her. He was at her house. She didn't like the circumstances that lead to that being a necessity, but she could at least enjoy spending time with him.

"Hmm," She said into her pillow. "I bet Roz would be surprised to hear about this turn of events."

c c c

Gerald "Jerry" Larimer returned home at six in the evening that day.

As his car door slammed, he noticed the slightly adjusted position of his truck, which in reality had been adopted by his daughter. He wondered momentarily what she would have needed it for on a weekday such as this one, but dismissed the thought. He didn't have to worry about his daughter doing reckless things, usually.

His front door was unlocked, as it always was when his wife beat him home. Melrose was scrupulous about her routines. Things were always the same as the day before, no confusion was involved on any of their parts. No unseen variables, usually.

He entered the front room, and heard the voices immediately. Or, _the _voice. It was June's. She sounded amused, but strained.

"Jesus, Cameron. Stop it! Careful."

Jerry paused. Not words he liked to hear from his teenaged daughter. Usually.

"Hmpf," He said, suspicious, and opened the door into the main house.

His daughter and boy he didn't recognize were spread out on the floor.

Playing Twister.

_Oh, _Jerry thought, and laughed inwardly. He had a quick sense of humor, never took anything to serious. Unless it was life threatening, of course.

"Hi, dad," June called. She was wrapped halfway around the boy's torso, reaching with her right hand for blue. Jerry wasn't sure how you could play Twister with only two people, someone had to call out where to put your limbs, right? But clearly, June and this boy were managing just fine. How odd.

Jerry didn't ask who the boy was. He knew he'd find out when the time came. He always did.


	3. Rumor Has It

The rumors were flying.

And June wasn't quite ashamed to admit that she liked it.

It had been her philosophy since leaving elementary school to stay under the radar, keep away from those that would talk about her behind her back, to not anger the wrong people. If they didn't know who the hell you were, they couldn't talk about you, right?

They couldn't hate you. That was something she generally tried to avoid.

But there was something exciting about her fame. Peoples eyes fell on her as she walked by, people would greet her in the morning by her name. It wasn't the bad fame, it was the _the-quiet-girl-has-finally-got-some_ fame. The girls and boys who were considered popular knew who June Laramer was, and they almost respected her.

It had started the morning after Cameron's day off, when they were seen walking to school from her house. June told Roz that he was staying with her, roz told her friends on the basketball team, they told their friends, and so on. By lunch, June had keyed into everyone's main theories as to what she and Cameron were up, and most of them were funny how completely incorrect they were.

Her parents were gone for the week, so naturally Cameron had snuck over to her house in the middle of the night and stayed till morning.

Bullshit.

Cameron's house burned down, and his entire family killed. Turned down by everyone else, he went to June.

Also bullshit.

Cameron had gone temporarily insane, and was wondering the streets in a deranged haze when June found him and brought back his sanity.

Complete bullshit.

In fact, Ferris Bueller found that last one hilarious.

"What did you use to bring back his sanity?" The dark haired boy laughed. "Your sexuality?"

"Wow, Ferris. Way to make it awkward." Sloane smiled wryly, noticing June's sudden blush, and how Cameron's eyes had begun to wander. What she didn't notice was that the two were holding hands under the lunch table.

"So," Sloane leaned forward. "What _actually_ happened?"

June explained, with Cameron adding in details. He noticed he was uncomfortable with the subject, and didn't blame him. Yesterday he'd been more relaxed, but she suspected that he was returning to his worrying, hypochondriac ways. But she wasn't too concerned yet. One didn't make a 360 degree personality change in a day. It took time, and the help of others.

The help of June. Or so she thought.

"That's terrible, Cameron." Sloane exclaimed sympathetically. She touched Cameron's hand, the one not linked with June's, softly.

"Christ, Cameron." Ferris said, but you could tell by his eyes he cared about his best friend. Cameron grunted in response. June squeezed his hand softly, discreetly.

June glanced at the clock on the wall. Five minutes to her next class, she should probably head out. The others had a free period after lunch.

"I gotta go," She told them, getting to her feet with her backpack. She hadn't bothered with actually eating lunch today, having eaten a large, calorie filled breakfast.

She let go of Cameron's hand slowly, tracing her fingers up his arm.

She waved at Roz in the hallway, who was walking with her boyfriend David, and threw June a quick grin.

As June moved on, she heard David whisper to Roz, "Is that the girl who...?"

She didn't bother listening to the rest. Odds are she _was _that girl. And no, Cameron was not so down on money that she offered him a job as an indentured servant at her mansion.

Such Bullshit.

c c c

Cameron strode down the hallway at a brisk pace.

He peaked into June's room, which was sparsely furnished with a centrally placed bed and desk and dresser off to the sides. The desk had piles of office supplies, the dresser harbored overflowing pieces of clothing, and a messy stack of magazines lay next to the bed. It would appear as though June was not the neatest person in the world.

Seeing as she was not there, Cameron headed into the kitchen, where Mrs. Laramer was chopping vegetables at a dizzyingly fast rate.

"She's out back, I believe." Mrs. Laramer said, in response to his question of June's whereabouts. "In her shed, most likely."

Cameron had never been behind the house before, but he knew a shed probably wouldn't be too hard to find. He stepped out into the afternoon light, and despite the spacious yard, he located the small white shed almost immediately, and hurried toward it.

He entered the shade of an overhanging tree, and saw a light in the shed window that faced him. No, it wasn't a light. It was...a spark. And then more of them. A torrent of fiery raindrops.

_What the hell?_

The chipped door was ajar, and he could a hear industrial sounds escaping the one room shed. A figure was bent over something.

Cameron crossed the threshold, and the figure looked up.

June was holding a torch, wearing a heavy suede apron and matching gloves. He assumed it was June, that is. She was wearing a black welder's mask, covering her entire face.

The sparks had stopped, and June turned off the torch. She removed her masked and smiled at him.

"Hi, there." She said cheerily.

"Hi," Cameron said, eyeing her little June-Cave. It was small, with a workbench under the one window, and various tools hanging from the walls. A few toolboxes were stacked here and there.

When June's parents had told her that she was no longer allowed to weld or solder in her room, she and her father had designed a workshop for her to work on her various projects. He had taught her everything she knew, and was pleased by her interest in working with her hands.

"Whatdya need?" June asked, hanging up her apron and mask. A sheen of sweat was visible along her hairline. She passed Cameron, and walked into the refreshingly clear air of the backyard. He followed her into the grass and sat down next to her by the small pond.

"I saw my dad's car driving down your street this afternoon."

June's eyes widened.

"I hid." Cameron said, eyes downcast.

"Good!" June blurted, and then explained herself. "That means he won't know which house is ours."

"But if he knows the street..."

"...we don't have long." June sighed. "I know."

Cameron plucked a piece of grass from the ground, and started tying it in knots.

"Clearly, his discovering us is inevitable. The only thing we can do is have a plan when the end comes." June continued.

"It's funny you should say that," Cameron met her eyes and smiled. "because I happen to know someone who's quite good with plans."

"Then I suggest we pay him a visit."


	4. Planning From the Master

Ferris swiveled in his desk chair to face the two people who had entered his inner sanctum.

The one that had been in his room many times ignored the many wonders. The second indulged in her need to stare.

"Cameron, June." Ferris greeted them. "Good evening."

Dinner had ended half an hour before, and Ferris had retreated to his cave. He had seen June's truck pull up, seen the tiny make-out session after the engine was cut, seen them approach the house and ring the doorbell, all from his room. That's what he liked about it-the complete view of the front of his house.

He had also seen, earlier that day, a car slowly inching by his house, and the man inside.

"Ferris, I need your help." Cameron said, and June's eyes removed themselves from the room's marvels.

_Of course you do,_ though Ferris, but his mouth waited.

"My dad's looking for me."

"Not surprising."

"And we need a plan for when he finds me."

"Yep."

"So...yeah. Are you gonna help or not?"

"Of course I will, Cameron." Ferris locked eyes with his best friend. "But you need to identify your actual goals in this venture. You know you're going to be caught, but how do you want it to go when you get caught?"

Cameron and June exchanged a look.

"I want any kind of meeting to be peaceful." Cameron said, after a pause. "And I like it to be a June's house, with her parents present." he turned to June. "If that's okay with you."

"Definitely. To keep you safe." She replied.

"So, Mr. Frye should be unarmed and Cameron should not be alone." Ferris summarized. "Sounds rational. But also restrictive."

"How so?" June asked.

"Well, we still have no idea when Mr. Frye will show up." Ferris started.

"Will you stop calling him 'Mr.'?" Cameron snarled. "An asshole like him does not deserve a respectful title."

Ferris continued. "We know it will be soon, but until then this would involve Cameron being with one of us all the time until his father shows. Otherwise, there are two many ways his father could snatch him when we don't expect it, and then do god knows what."

"You're smarter than you look, Ferris." Cameron said. "But I know my father will come soon. And hanging around you guys all the time in't the worst thing that can happen."

He exchanged a secret smile with June.

Well, not as secret as he would've hoped. Ferris saw it. It was clear they were a couple, yet they'd left that part out in the telling of the events of what had happened the day Cameron was kicked out of his house.

"One more thing," Cameron said. "I want to make sure my mom's okay."

Ferris knew that Mrs. Frye was frequently and terribly depressed. Often, Cameron was the only thing standing in the way when his father tried to beat his mother. Ferris had seen the cuts and bruises inflicted on Cameron in his mother's place. Mrs. Frye was a fragile women, and Ferris knew that if she was taking beatings like that now that her son was gone, she wouldn't be alive for very long.

"But," Cameron said. "I'm not sure how to do that without my father knowing."

"We could meet her in the middle of the day, while your dad's at work." Ferris offered.

"No, my dad'll be watching her like a hawk with me gone. He might not even let hr out of the house, knowing she'll run away." Cameron shook his head.

"Then we go to her," Ferris leaned forward and smiled. "I assume you'v both had dinner?"

They nodded.

"Then I'll meet you at your house at midnight. Wear clothes you can move in."

Cameron turned to June. "God help us."


	5. Execution of the Scheme

Melrose and Jerry had gone to bed, telling June and Cameron to go to bed before midnight. June had told them they were cramming for a test, which she _had_ intended to do that night, and they'd believed her.

Cameron had been growing increasingly twitchy and quiet as the hours stretched on. At 11:30, June went to go change into easier clothes, and found Cameron washing his hands thoroughly for the third time since meeting with Ferris.

"Cam," She sighed, stepping into the bathroom and quickly turning off the faucet. She grabbed a towel and dried his hands softly. She could see the skin on his knuckles already drying out. Cameron hadn't moved.

She hung up the towel and slid her arms around his waist.

"Everything will be okay." She said into his shirt.

"Maybe," He said, and held onto her.

c c c

Ferris arrived at 11:59, but waited a minute before meeting June and Cameron in the backyard.

They were sitting in the grass, holding hands, saying nothing.

Ferris emerged from the bushes.

"Our chariot awaits." he had parked his car, which he'd "borrowed" from Jeanie, a block down the road.

The couple rose to their feet. June was expressionless. Cameron looked terrified.

"Don't look so tightly wound, Cameron." Ferris said. "My plan is foolproof."

"Is it?" Cameron grunted, but it wasn't a question.

Ferris climbed into the driver's seat, and June into the back, leaving Cameron in the shotgun seat. He got in, but June could see Cam's white knuckle grip on the door handle.

They parked at the beginning of Cameron's driveway, positioning the car a way in which a quick get away would not be a hassle. They walked in complete darkness toward the slight ray of light coming from the house. To keep herself oriented, June had a grip on the shoulder of both boys in front of her.

When they came in proximity of the house, they stepped of the path and into the woods.

"The window into my mother's room is on the other side of the house," Cameron whispered. "It is always left open, this time of the year."

Cameron's parents had slept in separate rooms since he was twelve, and even back then he knew that was a bad sign. It was within the next few months that things became violent.

"Alright, then." Ferris said. "Lead the way, Cam."

Cameron rose to his full height, and tiptoed through the woods, giving the slightly glowing house a wide berth.

He said nothing when they stopped under a slightly ajar window, the lacy white curtains floating out on an invisible breeze. Cameron beckoned June forward, and lifted her up until she could get a knee over the window sill. She scooted in and landed softly on the carpeted floor.

Mrs. Regina Frye was awake, lying in bed, reading by lamplight.

"Don't scream!" June whispered.

Ferris came up next, and fell, less than gracefully, onto the floor. The walls shook slightly.

"Quiet, Ferris!" June breathed.

"Sorry." He said.

Regina's eyes widened.

"Just...hold on." Ferris told her. "We're here with your sun."

Regina remained silent.

Cameron came up last, being half hoisted up by Ferris and June.

"Hi, mom." he said softly.

"Cameron?" She whispered, and leaped from beneath her sheets. She wrapped him in a hug. She was skinny, unhealthily so, and bruises covered her face and arms. But she was alive. Cameron hugged her tightly.

"Uh...we'll keep watch." Ferris said. They left the room, giving Cameron some privacy. They stood in the darkened hallway, ears pricked to any sounds other than gentle snoring from down the hallway.

Cameron let go of his mother and held her a arm's length.

"He's hurting you again."

Realizing there was no denying what her husband had done to her, she nodded.

"I'm just glad you got out." Regina said, looking up at her son. "I just want you to be safe." Her voice was shaky.

"I'm gonna get you away from here." Cameron said resolutely.

Regina smiled sadly. "I know you will." she sighed. "He's looking for you. And he's close."

"I know," He said. "We have a plan."

"I certainly hope so, Cam."

Outside the door, they heard the sound of glass breaking.

c c c

Ferris ventured a few steps forward in the nearly complete darkness.

"Careful!" June hissed.

"I am!" Ferris hissed back. He finished his sentence, and thrust a hand forward to feel through the darkness. His fingers brushed something slick. When he reached for it again, it was gone. Less than a second later, something made of glass hit the floor, sending shards flying.

There was silence.

Ferris looked in the direction that he assumed June was in, and heard her ragged breathing. He heard Cameron's feet shift. He heard the ruffle of fabric that must have been Mrs. Frye's nightgown.

But the snoring had stopped. Feet moving over carpet had replaced it.

And the cocking of a shotgun.

"Shit!" Ferris exclaimed.

"Run!" June cried.

"Thieves!" Cried Cornelius Frye, hoisting his gun, and turning on lights as he went.

Cameron hugged Regina once more, quickly, and then bolted after his comrades. His long-legged stride caught up to them speedily, and he lead them toward the nearest escape route.

They navigated the various rooms, in still mostly darkness, knocking over various priceless artifacts as they went. Cameron actually enjoyed watching the art smash and break. He hated it. He hated all of it.

All of it belonged to his father.

Cornelius lumbered through the house behind them, screeching oaths, still oblivious to the identity of the "thieves". Regina followed after him, begging him to put down the gun, but he ignored her presence completely.

"Here!" Cameron cried at the other two, arriving at the back door. It was a glass door, with a key pad lock on both sides. He had know idea the combination. His father changed it every three days.

"Dammit," Cameron muttered, and looked around for any other place they might escape. Cornelius was closing in.

Ferris pushed past Cameron, pulling off the baseball cap he'd been wearing. He pressed it against the upper pane of glass, pulled his arm back, and sent a wobbly hook punch straight through it.

Cameron gave him a look, and Ferris explained with a simple, "Blues Brothers."

The broken glass had set off the outdoor alarm, but since the indoor alarm was already screaming, they joined together in one very loud, high pitched, wail.

Cameron wasn't entirely sure what breaking the glass had accomplished (a moment to appreciate the genius of Blues Brothers?), but he did the only thing he could think of. He slid his hand through the hole, cutting his arm on the broken shards as he went, until he could reach the handle on the outside. With his other hand, he grabbed the handle on the inside. Once in position, he pushed down on both.

Miraculously, the door opened. Cameron didn't know if that was something people were supposed to be able to do with these kinds of doors, or if it was just a glitch or something, but he didn't stop to ponder it. He fished his hand out of the glass opened the door to its full width.

Ferris skidded out first, just as Cornelius was within two steps of him, and realizing that his _thieves_ were getting away, fired two shots. One hit the door frame, sending plaster falling, the other went outside, to be lost in the darkness. Cornelius made it to the door itself, and found June slithering out, barely a foot in front of him.

He didn't recognize her in the darkness. He might not have recognized her anyway, seeing as the only time he ever saw her his vision was clouded with red. But either way, he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, fulling intending to rough her up a bit, and in the morning hand her over to the police.

The girl screamed, which was surprising because his grip on her shirt collar was starting to cut off her airways. "Cameron!" She cried.

_My son? _Was the only thing Cornelius had time to think before a heavy fist connected with his jaw, and his hand released.

Cameron had been two feet in front of June, undercover of darkness by the time Cornelius made it to the door. He had her hand for just a second in their final escape into the night before it was ripped away from his. Only a few milliseconds passed before he had traversed the distance between him and his father, and done the only thing he could think of, something he'd wanted to do for the longest time.

It hurt like shit to punch someone in the face, but it was worth the bloody knuckles.

"Don't touch her, you rat bastard." He said, standing over his half conscious father.

June had fallen to her knees, coughing as she pulled her shirt away from her neck.

"We don't have long," Cameron said, helping her to her feet. "The alarm system automatically calls the cops."

Ferris was a few steps ahead of them, now visible in the light of the house. June and Cameron joined him, and they ran into the forest.


	6. Recuperating

Their eyes were useless in the dark of the night, so they relied purely on feel to find the main road again, and the waiting car.

June thought she was gonna be sick. She had broken into someone's house, and could've been killed doing so. She crawled into the back seat and laid down.

Cameron took his original seat as well, and buried his face in his hands. His mother was being hurt on a regular basis, and he'd abandoned her.

Ferris was the only remotely capable of thinking, and took the job of driving. This little escapade into Cameron's life was the most dangerous thing he'd ever done. And it wasn't nearly as cool as he thought it would be. In fact it was fairly terrifying.

Ferris drove on, and once they turned into a more populated area, he flicked the headlights on. Cameron looked up after a few moments, and Ferris was aware of the red rims around his friend's eyes. Occasionally he'd hear a wheezing sound from the back, indicating that June was still breathing.

They were closing in on her neighborhood when he heard the shifting of fabric, and then she was peeking between the front seats.

"Cameron," He faced her. "You said the alarm system calls the cops...does that mean..are we..."

"No, my dad won't let them come after us. Whatever punishment he'd want for us, he'd inflict it himself. Police will just complicate things." Cameron said in a monotone.

"Well, maybe we should call the cops on him." Ferris suggested. "All the proof we need for abuse is your mom."

"No, I've tried that." Cameron answered, eyes unfocused. "I was thirteen, scared out of my mind. The cops came, but then, they just left. I didn't understand then, but he must have bribed them. There's also the fact that he could just shift the blame to us for breaking into his house, then while everyone's preoccupied with us, he'll lay low for a while."

Clearly, Cameron had given this some thought.

"Cam, he had a gun." June said quietly.

"I know," He murmured. "When he wakes up...Jesus."

Just as before, Ferris parked a block from June's house, and walked them to her back door.

"Thank you, Ferris." June said.

"No problem." He patted Cameron on the arm in comfort, and headed off into the night.

June opened the unlocked door, and they tiptoed into the house, and into the first floor hall bathroom. Her parents slept upstairs, so she hoped they wouldn't hear anything.

They closed the bathroom door and turned on the light.

Cameron's left arm was bloodied from his reach through the glass door, and his knuckles had scabbed over. June had a cut on her cheek from whatever glass artifact Ferris knocked over, and her breathing was still raspy and pain inducing. She leaned down and pulled the first aid kit from under the sink.

Cameron washed his knuckles, spread disinfectant, and did his best to cover the wound with band-aids. When it came to his arm, June stopped him.

"There might be glass in that," She murmured. She produced a magnifying glass from the cabinet, and examined the cuts. Using two fingers, she plucked a wafer thin, blood colored shard from the skin.

"Shit!" Cameron exclaimed under his breath.

"Sorry," She threw the piece in the trashcan, and bandaged his arm.

June examined her neck in the mirror. She couldn't have broken anything, could she? It was only her shirt...but why did it hurt so bad?

"Come here," Cameron said. He brought cold hands up to neck level, and started to gently prod the flesh.

"Do you know what you're looking for?" She asked.

"Hypochondriac, remember?"

"Oh, right." She winced as he touched a tender spot.

"I don't think anything's broken." He said a moment later. "But it might be bruised."

"Shit, I don't know how I'm gonna hide that."

"Hmm," He touched her chin, and she moved her head to the side so he could get a look at the cut that resided there.

"I'm sorry this happened," he said. "Dragging you and Ferris into this was unfair."

"No, Cam." She sighed. "We care about what happens to you. I wouldn't rather be doing anything else."

They fell into a kiss, arms firmly around eachother. The insatiable need to be close was overwhelming, and they succumbed to it gladly. It was one of those kisses that could have gone on forever, if they hadn't needed air.

"Come on," Was all June said, and Cameron followed her to the guest bedroom.

**Author's Note: So, first of all, I did change the title and summary of this story. Originally, this was just gonna be a one shot of Cameron and June. But it morphed, evolved into a story line, and suddenly it had outgrown its name and description.**

**Anyway, please, please, PLEASE REVIEW. Anyone who reads this and reviews, I will fucking love you forever.**


	7. Keeping Up Appearances

Ferris walked downstairs the next morning with a raging headache and a carefully placed band-aid.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head viciously, trying to get his vision to straighten as he poured himself cereal. Tom and Katie Bueller sat at the breakfast table, drinking coffee and reading the paper.

"Morning, Ferris." Katie said.

Ferris grunted.

"Someone's grumpy." Said Tom.

Another grunt.

Ferris flinched as he flexed the muscles in his left hand. The edge of the band-aid turned up slightly. He pressed it back down again and bit back a colorful swear. His hand still sore from pulling glass shards out of it, Ferris sat down at the table and shoveled down his food.

Five minutes later, Jeanie came skidding in the front door, her face the epiphany of furious.

"You!" She cried, with an accusing finger at Ferris. "You stole my car! I don't know when, but you did!"

The three at the table looked up from their various activities.

"Now, Jeanie." Ferris leaned forward, feeling awake enough to construct sentences. "Why would I ever steal my own sister's car when I have Cameron to ferry me around?"

"I don't know why, Ferris, but this morning it was parked in a different spot and there was a blood stain on the dashboard." Jeanie screeched.

_Shit, _Ferris thought,_ Cameron's knuckles._

"Jeanie!" Katie cried. "You may not accuse your brother of a crime you have no evidence of him doing!"

"But-"

"Jeanie!"

Jeanie glared at her brother. Ferris smiled sweetly.

Jeanie's gaze said one thing. _I will find what you've been up to._ She clomped up the stairs and out of sight.

Ferris went back to eating.

"Oh, Ferris. What happened to your hand?" Katie asked, her voice concerned.

"I fell over this morning." he replied, having an alibi already prepared. "Cut it on the side of my desk. It's nothing."

Katie smiled. "That's my tough little boy."

c c c

June splashed cold water on her face, and made an attempt to pull herself together.

Changing her mind, she undressed, and leaped into a hot shower. She was still trying to sort out what was real from last night and what she'd dreamed. Cameron had been right, she had woke up this morning with a neck ache and a line of bruises to go with it. She'd also woken up next to Cameron, in his bed.

Her exact memories were coming back to her as she grabbed a towel. Before it had just been sensations, emotions. But now, everything was clear as day.

She squeezed out excess water from her hair, and wrapped the towel around her middle. In her room, she pulled on a turtleneck, and flattened a band aid over her cheekbone.

June looked in the mirror, eyeing the far away look and tired eyes. She brushed her wet hair and flung it up into a loose bun so it wouldn't drip.

She jumped when she felt a touch on her arm.

"Sorry," Cameron said. "Didn't mean to scare you,"

"It's no problem," She answered, and stood on tiptoes to kiss him, placing a hand on the back of his neck so she wouldn't have to incline her own. Finally, the soreness won out, and she stopped to stretch her neck.

"Sore?" Cameron asked.

"A bit."

"Here, turn around." She did as she was told, and soon she felt gentle hands on her neck and shoulders. She sighed in relief.

c c c

"Jesus, you guys look like shit." Sloane plucked a french fry from her tray and raised an eyebrow at her three friends. "Did you guys go out clubbing or something last night?"

"No, no. Just up late studying." Ferris said.

Cameron raised an eyebrow at him, which Ferris could just barely see through the ray ban sunglasses his friend was wearing. Why wasn't he including Sloane in this?

_To keep her safe,_ Ferris mouthed back.

Cameron shrugged, dissatisfied, and picked at his food wearily.

"Then what's with all the band-aids?" Sloane asked.

Ferris sighed.

"Christ, Bueller, just fucking tell her." June snapped. Sleep deprivation was not doing anything good for her psyche.

"Tell me what?" Sloane asked.

"Ok, ok." Ferris addressed June. "But in private. Not in the middle of the cafeteria."

"What?" Sloane's voice was rising.

Ferris stood, and beckoned for Sloane to follow. June saw them walk into an empty hallway, and disappear.

She rubbed her eyes for what felt like the thousandth one that day, and swallowed down some food, which was tasteless in her mouth.

Five minutes later, Sloane and Ferris were back, and Sloane was leaning over to hug Cameron's shoulders.

"Oh my god, Cameron!" She cried.

"It's fine." He said softly, unconvincingly. He patted her hand, and she and Ferris returned to their seats.

And so Sloane was added into the mix of people who may or may not be of any help to the saving of Cameron Frye.


	8. June's Day Off

June woke up late that morning, and instead of rushing to get ready, she just laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Half an hour later, Cameron poked his head in. "June?"

"I have an idea," She lifted her head from the pillow. "I think we need a day off."

c c c

Needless to say, Cameron was on board with the idea.

June's parents had already left, seeing as they had a commute to work. Usually, they never had to worry about their daughter blowing off school.

There was a first time for everything, she supposed.

They made pancakes, laid around, made out and did various other activities until five, when her parents came home, and they got out of their pajamas and acted like they'd been at school all day.

Later, they were doing "homework" in June's room.

"Pretty good day, I'd say." June smiled.

"Nice rhyme." Cameron said. He sat at the foot of her bed, June with her back against the pillows.

"You know what the one thing we didn't do was?" June smiled mischievously.

"What?"

"Play strip poker."

Cameron snapped his fingers and grinned. "Damn. Now what are we gonna do?"

"I bet I can convince my parents to go out to dinner tonight." June was already rising from the bed.

"Sounds good." Cameron said, sliding an arm around her waist.

c c c

As it happened, Melrose and Jerry really needed a night off themselves.

"You'll be okay by yourself?" Melrose asked, putting on earrings and grabbing her purse.

"Oh, yeah. We're just gonna be doing homework." June smiled reassuringly.

Jerry kissed her on the top of the head, and lead the way out the door. Melrose bid her daughter farewell, and followed her husband.

Ten minutes later, June and Cameron were halfway wrapped around eachother, each with a hand of cards.

"Lets do this," June smiled.

"You're going down," Cameron replied.

"We shall see."

The first round did, in fact, go to Cameron, and June pulled off her t-shirt.

"Asshole," She told him, and promptly won the next round.

"Tough luck" She said, and kissed him.

"Hmpf." He grinned.

It wasn't long before items of clothing littered the floor, and the game had ended.

It wasn't quite a Ferris Bueller grade day off, but it was exactly what they needed.

c c c

"Good news, everybody." Ferris sat heavily down at the table, next to his girlfriend.

"Oh, lord." Cameron muttered.

"No need for the groaning, Cameron." Ferris smiled. "There is nothing to worry about."

Cameron glared at him, incredulous. "Bullshit."

Ferris simply smiled cheerily. "I have just heard that the final dance of the year, the final dance for all seniors, is in a month."

"Um...okay." June said.

"Come on, this is a big deal! This is the last time all of the senior class will be together." Ferris was clearly excited.

"Are juniors allowed to come?" Sloane asked, referring to herself.

"Why yes, yes they are." Ferris replied. "First question I asked."

"Why do we need to know about this a month in advance?" June asked.

"Because," Ferris replied.

June went back to eating, knowing that that was all the answer she was gonna get.


	9. The End of the Illusion of Normalcy

Three days passed without interruption from the average.

It was almost like Cameron was an normal teenager, with normal parents that are both mentally healthy, and a girlfriend he can hang out with whenever.

Melrose and Jerry are good parents. Clearly, because June turned out so well. With June, he can forget his problems, just laugh, love and live.

_Maybe my life will stay like this forever,_ He thinks. _Maybe my father will never find me. Maybe I'll..._

He stops there. If he thinks to hard, then he knows its impossible.

June put down her pencil, and eyes him carefully. She starts to sketch him again, quick, light lines, that are later darkened. It's for her visual art elective, she has to draw someone she cares about, show them with an expression that they usually have on their face. Unlike most who took art so they don't have to any elective where you actually have to write, June took it because she's good at it. He'd seen her work, her people are so lifelike, so expressive. She'd drawn everyone she knew, as well some she didn't just to practice. She loves it.

A few more minutes, and Cameron alternated between looking at his own homework and looking at her when she requested a different angle. Then she had a rough draft, a general outline of his face and features. His head is tilted down, eyes slits, mouth a gentle line. His hair looks like its almost tousled by a breeze that only she can see.

"Wow," Cameron said.

"It needs color," She muttered, half to herself. "But that'll have to wait. I have to math homework."

Cameron, who was already working on it, and slowing dying, replied with. "It sucks."

"Can't say I'm surprised." She began to work on the first problem, and five minuted later was already exasperated. "God, I fucking hate math."

"Don't we all?" Cameron replied.

"You know what? I'm gonna drive to Ferris's house. He has a better calculator." She put down her notebook and mechanical pencil. "And a cheat sheet."

She touched Cameron's arm before grabbing the keys to her truck. "You can come if you like."

"Nah, that's ok. I'll see if I can figure it out myself."

"Ok." She leaned forward. "My parents are downstairs, should..._he_ come."

He sighed. "Good."

She kissed him quickly, grabbed her school sweatshirt and headed out.

c c c

Melrose and Jerry had left roughly five minutes before June told Cameron they were still in the house.

They didn't tell their daughter, because they'd simply walked down the street to visit the new neighbors who'd just moved in. They had planned it to be a 10 minute round trip. Finding that their neighbors were amiable, it turned into 30 minutes.

By then, June was already driving the few streets over to Ferris's house. She arrived, climbed out of her truck, and headed over the familiar yard to the front stoop.

She was within five feet of it when Ferris came barreling down the steps, nearly running into her. His eyes were frantic, fear lingering in their depths.

"June! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you! Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" She could feel his fear spreading to her, and didn't like it.

"I just saw his car."

June turned pale. "Where?"

"Driving slowly down my street, toward yours."

"Shit. My parents are at home, but we still need to get over there, and fast." The last part came out as a whisper. "He's found us."

"What? I just saw your parents drive by. I think it was them, at least."

They met eyes.

"Oh my god." June muttered, and bolted for her truck. She was already backing out onto the street when Ferris hauled himself in.

"Mother fucker!" June screamed, putting her foot down on the gas pedal. "How the fuck could I fucking let this happen?" Panic had taken hold of her, and held her in a relentless grip. She ran a red light, and managed a hairpin turn with her giant truck, just missing a station wagon.

Ferris held on for dear life, convinced either he, Cameron, or June would die today, some how.

June hit the breaks, and skidded to a halt in front of her house. Seeing the shiny black sedan already there, she threw herself out onto the yard and sprinted for the back door, Ferris hot on her heels.

The first thing she heard after flinging the door open and arriving in the dining room, was the sound of a single gunshot. She nearly collapsed then and there, but clung to the back of a seat for support. Ferris moved forward, into the kitchen. She saw him liberate a knife from one of the drawers.

"Cameron!" She half screamed, half sobbed.

Silence.

She found the strength to move her feet, and caught up with Ferris, who had begun to quietly move forward, into the adjoined living room. She grabbed his arm. Seconds had passed since they'd entered the house, but it felt like hours.

"Cameron." She said, tears of horror in her eyes.

The emerged into the cruelly sunny room.

Ferris passed out immediately when he saw the amount of blood soaking into the floor, and June just managed to slip an arm under his head before it hit the wood of the floor. Her stomach did flip flops as she took in the gruesome.

Cornelius Frye held a shot gun in his hand.

And a bullet in his brain.

Cameron Frye had a blank look in his icy blue eyes.

And a piece of crumpled paper clutched in his fingers.


	10. The Sound of Silence is Deafening

They came.

Melrose and Jerry, of course. Tom and Katie, naturally. Even Regina was called, and alerted to her husband's condition. June was surprised to see her cry when the woman was given the news, she expected a reaction of relief. June supposed the married the man for a reason, perhaps not obvious to another person.

The police came, the coroners, the ambulance.

June told what happened. Several times. On the police report, she saw what the officer wrote.

_Suicide?_

The punctuation troubled her. Cameron hadn't spoken a word since she found him. His eyes were completely blank. But she knew it was impossible. For one thing, Cameron would never shoot someone. He hated his father, enough to punch the man in the face in her defense, but not enough to kill him so mercilessly. The interval between hearing the gunshot and June coming across the scene was tiny, and they'd heard no footsteps. There's no way Cameron could have walked across the room and placed the gun in his father's hand.

The paper was a final will, only contributing to the idea that Cornelius came to Cameron to kill himself, giving his son his inheritance. It was a strange turn of events, Cornelius doing something like this. Something almost noble, yet gruesome. Giving his son what he deserved, then blowing his own brains out.

Despite Melrose and Jerry's irritation and fear for their daughter's well being, the state would be keeping June, Cameron, and Ferris under a 72 hour psychiatric watch and for further questioning in Chicago.

They were each given separate rooms in one of the most well known hospitals, and promised a shrink in the morning.

June crawled under the covers, still fully clothed, and cried herself to sleep.

c c c

Ferris was awakened by sunlight in his eyes. Something didn't feel right, the way the bed was tilted, the angle of sunlight, the feel of the sheets and blankets.

Then, you could say it came crashing down on him. You could also say that it hit him like a brick wall. Like a bitch slap to the face.

He could barely believe that this could've happened. It was...unreal. Preposterous. Ferris Bueller had seen and done a lot of crazy shit, but this...this was a whole different game. An impossible game.

To the right of his hospital bed his parents passed out in plastic chairs. Jeannie, too. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and upon sitting fully upright he was met with a pounding headache. He let his head fall into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain.

"Mother fucker," he murmured, and let himself fall back on the bed, his legs still protruding over the side.

What had happened after he passed out? Where were Cameron and June?

What did this all mean?


	11. In the Most Literal Sense

"We're going to need a lawyer."

"Regina will pay for it. She has full control of her husband's assets."

"This looks bad."

"The evidence does point toward that conclusion. But June wouldn't do anything like this." The softer, female voice says softly.

"Perhaps not before, but with those two boys she's running around with...God knows what she's capable of." The gravelly, male voice counters at a slightly higher volume.

"I should have thought before I let him into our house. I didn't know his parents...his father. It was suspicious from the beginning."

"Don't worry yourself, my dear. You did what was right at the time. He needed a home. No one could have predicted what would have become of his staying here."

A sniffle comes from the woman, and the man moves to put an arm around her.

June listened to her parents condemn Cameron, and bit her lip. She fought the urge to throw herself around the corner she hid behind, and yell her thoughts. They thought she was asleep, in her bed. They had returned home that evening, the three of them from the hospital in Chicago. Ferris too, she thought. She had know idea where Cameron was, which was unsettling in itself.

June tiptoed back up to her room, and slid in under her covers again. It was late, but she didn't care. There was no way in hell she was going to school tomorrow. If her parents left her alone long enough, maybe she could slip away and try to find Ferris and Cameron.

m m m

Three days later, June had still not managed to get out of her house and find her friends. But it was on this third day that she was to leave, seeing as her family was to meet with a well known lawyer in the city, courtesy of Regina Frye.

For the first time in several days, June put on clothes that were to be seen in public. She brushed her hair and teeth, and put on shoes. It took more effort than she expected, and she wondered how'd she'd managed to do it everyday of her life. But then she was done, and she was grabbing her purse and heading out to her father's car, her mother's gentle touch guiding her by the elbow. Any neighbors who happened to be outside stared at the family as they emerged from their house for the first time after returning from the city. Needless to say, the incident with Cornelius Frye had made front page news, and in general words of this nature traveled quickly. "Local teenagers involved in murder of prominent businessman." Even the idea would catch everyone's eye, should they be looking for something to read.

June slid into the backseat, and the ride into the city was deathly quiet, all the occupants of the vehicle sporting grim expressions. June's hands were in a constant, nervous motion, flitting about the car like demented butterflies.

They entered the downtown, and parked as close to the lawyer's office as Chicago traffic would allow. Lost in the population of a large American city, no one spared the family a second glance. The incident may have made the city paper, but it would not be as much of a breaking news story in a crime filled city.

The lobby was generically decorated, the floor made of marble, the walls decorated with placards and calming photographs of picturesque locations around the world. A few fake potted plants dotted the room. There was a couch and two black leather chairs placed in casual positions, and a blonde receptionist held a desk in the corner.

"Are you the Larimer's?" The blonde asked. Her face was mostly flat, with a slightly hooked nose in the center of her face. Her eyes were large and blue, and there was evidence of a repaired cleft palate, fixed many years ago, on the shape of her lipstick marked lips.

"Yes," Jerry said, and the uncomfortable group approached the desk. "You'll have to excuse our slight tardiness."

"No problem," She smiled warmly. "You may go in. Third door on the right."

They headed down the paneled hallway, and pushed open the heavy wood door.

June wasn't sure she'd ever been more relieved in her life, when she saw the occupants of the room.

Ferris sat in between his parents in the three chairs facing the large mahogany desk, where an older man in a sharp suit sat, his mouth in a way that foretold he was about to say something.

There was only one other chair, and Regina Frye had commandeered that, while her son stood next to her. She had a death grip on his forearm, and looked like a frail porcelain doll, her black dress hanging limply from her thin body.

June stopped herself from running to them just in time, realizing the setting would not allow for her urges.

"Forgive me for my lack of seating options. My clients usually aren't such large groups." The lawyer, June saw his name plate now, Holbrooke Marsh, said.

"It's fine," Melrose said softly.

"Well," Marsh began. "Now that we're all here, we can get down to business." He paused. None of the solemn group said a word.

"The state of Illinois is pressing charges against Cameron Reginald Frye, for voluntary manslaughter. It is also prosecuting June Cecilia Laramer and Ferris Daniel Bueller for assisting voluntary manslaughter. Mr. Bueller and Mr. Frye are eighteen and will be trialed as adults, while Ms. Larimer at seventeen will be trialed as a juvenile." Marsh peeked at his notes, but recalled most of the case details. "I'm assuming you are claiming innocence?"

Everyone in the room nodded simultaneously, except for Cameron, who didn't move.

"Okay then. I'm sorry, but I will not sugar coat this for you. The state has a pretty good case for Mr. Frye's guiltiness, I'm afraid. No one actually witnessed the suicide of Cornelius Frye, and with a history of bad feelings toward eachother...well, lets just say we've seen a situation like this before more than once, and it didn't end well for the progeny. As for Mr. Bueller and Ms. Larimer, other than the fact they know Mr. Frye, there is very little evidence bespeaking their actual involvement in the supposed murder itself. Unless something comes to light, they have very good odds for being found innocent, and as a juvenile any kind of punishment inflicted on Ms. Larimer will be lessened." Marsh finished the briefing. "And now down to the point. I need to know everything that went on in the time prior to the death of Cornelius Frye, pertaining to the case. You must understand, this is simply to avoid surprises in the courtroom, should the prosecution unearth some kind of evidence against us."

June noticed the pronoun "us", and wondered if it was simply to produce the illusion of trust, the idea they are a team against the prosecution, or if it really is that Holbrooke Marsh actually believes in the cause.

Without warning, Tom and Katie Bueller stood to follow Jerry and Melrose out, and Regina, with Cameron's help, pulled herself into a shaky standing position, and tagged along with the other parents. It occurred to June several seconds late that Marsh must have asked them to leave, so that he could talk to the accused alone, sensing that some of the case information may be sensitive.

June and Cameron took seats next to Ferris, and waited for the counselor to begin.

"Lets begin from the day that Mr. Frye began his residence at the Laramer estate. What day was that?"

"April twenty-fifth." Ferris answered.

"What inspired the move?" Marsh asked. He looked at Cameron, but the teenager said nothing. His startling blue eyes were distant, and June was pretty sure he hadn't said anything since the incident. Not a word to anyone, which was a worrying thought in the idea that he was the only witness to the crime he was being convicted for. June was pretty sure that it was just trauma that had him silent, but to a jury it would appear as though he was keeping his mouth shut to cover his own ass.

"His father," June said, and then, with the help of Ferris retold the entire story, leading up to the final moments of Cornelius Frye's life. Or as best as they could, with only their limited views of the situation.

They even told of their break in of the Frye household, which hardly counted, seeing as technically Cameron still officially lived there when they went to find his mother. Marsh assured them that no claims of breaking and entering would hold up in court.

"I must ask, though," Marsh turned to Cameron, after hearing the full story. "Why won't you say anything, boy?"

Not surprisingly, Cameron said nothing.

"Something to do with trauma, is what I heard." Ferris explained. "He's seeing a psychiatrist that deals with these kind of things." He glanced at June, but she knew nothing else.

"Hmm," Marsh grunted, and rose to his feet. "Well, thank you for your openness, it makes everything a lot easier. Don't be too scared, we may be able to get through this unscathed." he reached out a hand, and shook each of theirs in turn. June flashed him a facial expression that she hoped was a grateful smile, but she wasn't paying really close attention.

"When the court date is set, we will schedule another meeting, and then...well, then the true test will come." Marsh led them to the door.

"Thank you," Ferris said.

"You're very welcome." he gave the trio a parting smile before closing the heavy door.

Knowing their parents would be waiting far down the hallway, the group waited before moving to meet them, and gave themselves a moment alone.

"How're you doing?" Ferris asked June quietly.

"I've been better."

"This is seriously fucked up. Cameron's innocent."

"No shit."

"I can't believe Cornelius did this. He must have had some crisis of conscience or something, realizing how terrible he'd been, and believing the only way to escape his mistakes was to leave the waking world."

"I guess that must have been it. Maybe, after we broke in, he was like 'shit, I've been a complete jackass to everyone in my life, I need to reconcile it somehow'. But still, he gave Cameron his inheritance, but jesus, he's still left his son a lot of shit to deal with." June said. She hated that Cameron was silent through this, it was like he wasn't even there.

"It seems so unlikely, though."

"Yeah, really. But you think about it, it makes a hell of a lot more sense then Cameron shooting his dad, or Cameron shooting anyone, for that matter." June sighed. "We should probably head that way." She jerked a thumb down the hallway.

"Yeah," Ferris hugged her quickly, and headed down the hallway.

June reached up to hug Cameron, and felt him move slightly to embrace her back. She kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Everything will be okay," She said, but she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.

She turned and walked silently down the hall, toward her waiting parents.


	12. A Full Cast

Several more days passed with June locked in her house, but that part she didn't mind to much. What she minded was the secrecy her parents were keeping regarding her own trial. They never mentioned it around her—not at any meals, not when they came to kiss her good night—it was the elephant in the room every second of every day. And it drove her absolutely insane.

When she wasn't fuming about her parents silence, or worrying about Ferris and Cameron, she was drawing. People, mostly. She started with her portrait of Cameron, finishing it and pinning it to the one blank wall in her room. After that came Ferris and Sloane, Tom and Katie Bueller, Jeannie, Jerry and Melrose, Regina Frye, Roz and her boyfriend David, Holbrooke Marsh, and finally, though it was painful, she stretched to Cornelius Frye.

All of the portraits she pinned to the wall, in random patterns, filling up the blank space. With the full cast of characters mixed up her crazy life, she could almost find peace looking up at their faces. She'd drawn them in positions that she had seen them in the most, sometimes it was a smile, sometimes a faraway look, sometimes a curious expression. For Cornelius Frye, she had only seen him with a look of pure rage, or in the ultimate serenity of death, so she drew him expressionless.

The elephant was confronted a week later, when Holbrooke Marsh called to inform of the court date, and to schedule their next meeting. They agreed on the next afternoon, seeing as the court date was the morning after that. Once again, they made the stoic pilgrimage to the lawyer's office, and were briefed on the workings of the court room, as well as the overall game plan, involving witnesses and arguments. The meeting was shorter than the last, and ended with a reminder to be at the court room half an hour before the scheduled time of eight in the morning, and to be dressed formally.

June departed with a meaningful look at Ferris and Cameron, nervousness already building up inside of her. She went home to eat a quick dinner and fall into a restless sleep.

m m m

Awaking with more than enough to get properly worried, June busied herself with showering, and then trying to find formal clothes. She found a pair of dress pants and ironed them, and then a blazer that was closest enough in shade to match. A white button up shirt that had been hiding at the bottom of her wardrobe was added under the blazer, and a few pieces of jewelry came into the mix. June blow dried her hair, then put it up in a tight bun. She was getting tired of having longish hair, and decided that at some point soon she should get it cut. Assuming she wasn't facing jail time in her future.

She put on an heirloom watch, and a pair of high heels. A little make up around her eyes, and then she drifted down the stairs to eat a tiny, slightly nauseating breakfast.

Her parents had gotten up later than her, so June waited by the door, swaying from foot to foot while her dad fiddled with his tie, and her mother curled her already wavy hair.

Fifteen minutes later, they were headed out the door, and soon driving into the slowly waking city. June heard Melrose sniffle in the front seat, no doubt from the overwhelming day ahead of them. June leaned forward to pat her mother's arm comfortingly.

They arrived at the cook county criminal court right on time. Unsure of where to go, they padded toward the large front doors. As it turned out, it was not too hard to find where Marsh and the others were, and at eight o'clock they headed into the main courtroom, where jury was getting seated. The parents took seats in the benches, while Cameron, Ferris and June took seats at a table with Marsh.

Ferris squeezed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. June cracked her knuckles loudly. Cameron didn't move a muscle.

The judge arrived, and the bailiff called everyone to rise.

"All rise for the honorable Judge Murphy."

And they did.


	13. The Trial, Part One

"Prosecution calls June C. Larimer to the stand."

Ferris gave her something like a comforting smile, and she rose from her seat. Opening statements had been made, and the events that led up to Cameron joining her at her house had been gone over.

"Put your right hand over your heart." The clerk, a small, bespectacled man instructed her. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so held you God?"

"I do," June answered softly.

She was lead to the stand, and the prosecution lawyer approached her. She swallowed, her stomach doing flip flops.

"Ms. Larimer," The lawyer was put together, black hair neat and slicked back, suit perfectly ironed and tucked in. He was confident, but still friendly looking. He looked like he knew his shit.

"Yes?" She answered, her voice weak.

"On the evening of the twenty-ninth of April, where were you?"

"My house."

"All night?"

"No."

"Where were you other than your house?"

"Cameron's house."

"Why is that? As I understand, Cameron R. Frye was no longer welcome at the residence of Cornelius D. Frye, because of the events that went down on the twenty-fifth of April."

"We realized that with Cameron gone, his mother was probably not safe from his father. So we decided to make sure she was okay, but we had to do it secretly because Cornelius...well, Cornelius..."

"What about Cornelius?"

"We considered him dangerous."

"Hmm," The prosecution lawyer continued. "So you went Mr. Frye's house?"

"Yes, we went in through the window."

"And what happened after that?"

"Cameron talked to his mother, and Ferris and I went out into the hallway."

"Did you leave immediately after that, back out the window?"

"No, Ferris knocked something over and woke up Cornelius, who thought we were trying to rob him, so he chased us outside at gunpoint."

"At any point, was there violence between you three and Cornelius, or was it just threatened violence?"

"No, there was violence. I was the last one to get out, and he grabbed me by my shirt collar, strangling me, but Cameron turned around and punched him in the face so he would let me go."

"Did Cameron say anything after that?"

"He said, 'don't touch her, you rat bastard' or something like that."

"So he was clearly very angry with his father?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

"Not enough to kill the man, I don't think. I can't imagine Cameron every being _that_ mad."

The lawyer seemed to ignore her last statement, and turned to face the jury.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, clearly there was bad blood between father and son, escalated by a break in. Whose to say it couldn't escalate further?"

He was barely finished speaking when Ferris stood and shouted. "He was abused, you son of a bitch! Cameron's father beat him!"

June could feel a headache coming on.

"Order, order!" The judge cried. "Please, Mr. Bueller, sit down."

"Abuse is not the issue at hand, Mr. Bueller. Whether or not son murdered father _is_ the issue. There is also the fact that you have insufficient evidence to prove that statement, seeing as Mr. Frye doesn't want to contribute to his own case." The lawyer replied coolly, with a pointed look at Cameron.

_Just look at Cameron's mother,_ June thought. _If that's not proof of abuse, I don't know what is. The women's a mess._

"If the prosecution has no further questions for the witness..." The judge implored.

"Yes, Ms. Larimer, you may return to your seat. Thank you."

_Shit._

m m m

They broke for lunch at noon.

June was shaking, visibly. The morning had been thoroughly terrifying.

"Frances Digby's a complete asshole." Ferris ranted, referring to the slick prosecution lawyer. "My dad knows him. Complains about him all the time."

"Seems like a real dick, who's really good at pretending he's not one. But I guess everyone says that about someone who's intent on sending them to jail." June agreed, as they lounged on the front steps of the courthouse. They had eaten small lunches, and still had time before court was back in session. Cameron had eaten nothing, and according to Ferris, he'd eaten nothing since the incident.

Ferris grunted, and shifted to lying horizontally on the front steps. June stood uncomfortably, and Cameron sat on an outcropping, swinging his legs slightly, looking nowhere.

"Shit," Ferris said after a while.

"Damn straight." June said without looking at him.

A car pulled up in front of the courthouse, with a familiar group of people inside. Jeannie, Roz, David and Sloane climbed out and hurried toward them.

After being hugged four times, June asked, "How did you guys make it out here during school?"

"How do you think, June?" Roz answered, good natured sarcasm dripping. "We skipped."

"Well I, personally, am honored." Ferris said, and kissed Sloane again. "Are you guys staying for the rest of the day?"

"Sure." Jeannie shrugged. "Got nothing better to do."

Just then, Katie poked her head out the door to notify them of the court returning in less than five minutes. They filed back in, four extra people in tow, who took seats behind the parents.

"Good luck," Roz whispered.

June smiled.

The day continued, in the same fear-inducing state as the morning. At the adjourning until tomorrow, nothing was definitive. They would return the next day, and on and on until the case rested.

It was the way of the trial.

m m m

Regina was paying to put everyone up in a hotel in the city for as many nights as the trail took, so they wouldn't all have to drive in from the suburbs every morning.

It seemed a questionable decision to put up all three of the kids in the same room, but June guessed that at this point her parents had decided nothing much worse could come out of it.

It was a fancy hotel, with nice, expensive décor, and fluffy bed spreads. There room had three twin beds, and June claimed the one closest to the window, which overlooked Millennium Park.

She threw her small duffel bag in the corner, and plopped down on the bed, completely exhausted. She had to get up though, and change into more comfortable clothes, to meet her family for dinner downstairs. And she did this, with Ferris and Cameron doing the same.

Dinner was eaten in silence. Afterwards, the parents went out for drinks, with the exception of Regina who claimed tiredness. She trudged unsteadily to the elevators, leaving the three teenagers in the mostly empty lobby.

"We should do something." Ferris said.

"Really, Ferris? You're scheming at a time like this?" June asked, with more than a little irritation.

"No, nothing serious. Just to take our minds off things."

June sighed, and looked at Cameron, who, of course, did not offer his opinion.

She felt her willpower crumble. "Ugh, fine. C'mon, Cameron. We're going out."

She took his hand, and followed Ferris out the rotating door, and onto the busy sidewalk. It was near complete dark, but the street lights were turning on, the sky scrapers lighting up slowly.

June wondered if Ferris actually had any idea where he was going. She didn't think anything would be open at this hour, or anything that didn't involve alcohol.

As it turned out, Ferris did have alcohol in mind, and he lead them to a pub a few blocks over. He stopped in front of the door, waiting for the other two to catch up.

"What the fuck, Ferris?" June hissed. "I'm seventeen, shithead. I can't go in there."

"No, its okay. You were born in 1968, just like us. And if you just flash your drivers license, they just look at the year, not the date. It'll be fine."

"Jesus Christ." June muttered, and exchanged a look with Cameron. It was progress, she thought, at least Cameron was acknowledging her existence.

She pulled out her I.D., and Cameron and Ferris did the same. The bouncer seemed pretty disinterested, and barely glanced at them and their identification before allowing them in to the already crowded pub.

Once inside the living, breathing throng of people, June followed Ferris, all the while pulling Cameron by the hand until they reached the bar.

One generic beer later, they decided the club wasn't for them, and paid for their lightweight drinks. They pushed their way through the crowd again, and out onto the street. Outside the air was less stale, and though filled with car exhaust, soothed their lungs slightly.

"Where to now?" June asked Ferris. One beer and she was already feeling a lot more relaxed, while Ferris seemed to be in full control of his mental faculties.

"We'll see, won't we?" Ferris answered, with something like a smile.

m m m

June awoke to her alarm clock screaming at her.

She had a slight headache as she climbed out of bed, and hurried to claim the shower first. As she lathered her hair, she thought of last night, and the blur until they returned home around midnight. She carefully deciphered her slightly intoxicated memories.

They'd left the pub around nine o'clock, and headed over to an art gallery opening down the way. June was pretty sure it was invite only, but no one paid attention to the three crashing teenagers.

They left there at ten thirty, and then wandered around the city for the rest of the night, until they were thoroughly lost. Ferris then decided that their parents would probably missing them about now, and they headed back to the hotel in a slight daze, to simply fall into bed.

June stepped out of the shower, squeegeeing her hair out and wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel. She moved back into the main room, and Cameron took her place in the bathroom.

She changed into her formal clothes from the day before, having no alternate set. The hotel didn't have a blow dryer that she could find, so she put her hair up wet. The boys were ready by the time she was slipping into her shoes.

They trudged down the stairs, ignoring the elevator for no reason other than waiting for it to arrive would give them time to think about the day ahead of them.

June muttered a swear word as she teetered on her high heel, coming down the carpeted stairs. Cameron caught her by the arm before she could do a face plant. She looked at him for a second before continuing. Was he coming back from wherever he had gone to after the incident?

They met their parents in the lobby, and drove to the courthouse. Taking the same seats as yesterday, they collected themselves before being called to rise by the bailiff.

Court was in session once again.


	14. The Trial, Part Two

For several days, it seemed, June had an almost constant tension headache. She was fairly sure it was close to driving her over the edge.

The usual Ferris Bueller seemed to have vanished from the boy she saw each day. Not a trace of mischief or excitement was visible in his dark eyes. Granted they didn't have much opportunity to do anything worthy of excitement. The routine was inadvertent, and it worked for them. Get up, go to the trial, come back to the hotel, try to eat something, sleep.

They had all noticeably lost weight since The Incident.

The trial went back and forth. On the defendant's side, they had two almost witnesses, who could argue the time span between the shot being fired and finding Cameron and Cornelius. On the prosecution, they had a history of abuse and pent up rage that could easily lead to a son killing his father, or so it seemed.

The defendant's main problem was the accused's silence. For all Holbrooke Marsh knew, the boy was guilty. It didn't change the fact that he could be found innocent, but if you're guilty and pleading not guilty, the odds were already against you. A crime like this, if it was actually a crime, Marsh deduced, would have been a crime of passion, done in a stressful moment. It would not have been a well planned murder, where the murderer had made sure he would not be caught. It was simply spur of the moment, gun in his hands, anger boiling over.

In terms of Cameron's condition, nothing had changed. He appeared to be lost, in some other world, only going through the motions in reality.

"This happened once before." Ferris told June one evening. "Not quite as long, of course. Afterwards, he said he was meditating, watching himself from above, reevaluating. Maybe that's what he's doing now."

June raised her eyebrows, said nothing.

_This is all insane._ She thought, sometimes several times a day. How many seventeen year olds are involved in a murder trial? It would be exciting, if it were anyone but her, if she heard _someone else_ was in a murder trial.

It was on the third day that the tables were turned.

The prosecution made their closing statement, after bringing in all matter of witnesses, from Regina Frye (sniffling, she simply repeated in a shaky voice, "my son is innocent!"), to Cameron's teachers at school, who reported "he was a quiet and reserved boy, who seemed to be absent a lot." The lawyer, Frances Digby, even brought proof of a midnight 911 call made four years before, in which Cameron had tried to tell the operator that his mother was being injured. It was later reported that a patrolman arrived at the Frye residence to find "no evidence of abuse." Digby argued that this was a clear example of the building tension between father and son, long before it dissolved into murder. It was clear of Digby's tactic—though it may incriminate the rather powerful (but very dead) father, it gave the son a direct motive, and though he may have had good reason, it was still murder.

Marsh had considered this strategy, pleading that it was self defense on Cameron's part. But the family had made it clear they wanted him proven completely innocent.

Digby turned to the jury, a self satisfied expression playing across his features as he prepared to give his final statement against Cameron Frye.

"As you can see, it's clear that the father-son relations in the Frye family are, at best, tense. From the evidence I have presented, I think it is perfectly obvious that violence was an action resorted to more than once in the household itself, and could have easily boiled over into murder. Thank you." Digby smiled at the jury, and took his seat.

Marsh realized quickly that this case had ended. Digby had presented a good case, the odds were on his side. Marsh knew that this last statement may make or break his entire cause. It may dictate the futures of the three youth he sat next to.

He rose to his feet, chin held high.

June watched Marsh rise, very aware of the significance of the next few seconds. She glanced behind her, saw Sloane, Jeannie, and Roz seated a few rows back. Its about three in the afternoon, school ended half an hour before.

Marsh addressed the jury. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Digby has painted my client as a boy possessed to murder his own father. In my opinion, only one who is mentally insane would be capable of such a thing, no matter what the circumstances, or the context.

"Every person who has been called to the stand in this case had said similar things, that, though Cameron Frye clearly was having troubles at home, he was never the type of man that would resort to violence, even against a father who would. It is because of this that I believe, and urge you to aswell, that Cameron R. Frye is innocent of his charges, that a regretful Cornelius Frye arrived that day to deliver his final will and take his own life, in what he believed to be an act compensation for his own actions against his family." Marsh took his first complete breath since beginning this three day trial. "Thank you."

A whoop was heard from the meager audience. June looked back to see Sloane grinning, a slight smile on Jeannie's face. June had to hand it to Marsh, the man knew how to give a convincing statement. She just hoped it would be enough.

m m m

The jury had just begun to deliberate when the judge called it a day.

As always, the three teenagers found a small table in the hotel's restaurant, and ate as little as possible, in silence. But today it was different. They could see the light at the end of the tunnel, or maybe it was the crushing blackness at the end of the tunnel, depending on the outcome.

m m m

It took another day for the jury to make their decision.

June's fingernails were nearly chewed off, the suspense was so nerve racking. At any given moment her thoughts were just a string of bewildered swear words.

When the jury emerged from the backroom, June sucked in a breath that she did not let out. She sat between Cameron and Ferris, a white knuckle grip on one of their hands. Holbrooke Marsh was biting his lip. Frances Digby smiled coolly. From behind her, Sloane looked close to tears, and Jeannie had a fierce expression on her face, mirrored by Roz.

All of the jury returned to their seats, except for one, the foreman. She had a notepad in her hands, reading glasses residing on her nose. She cleared her throat and began to read.

"After intense deliberation, the jury finds the defendants, Ferris Daniel Bueller and June Cecilia Larimer, innocent of assisting voluntary manslaughter.

"In the case of Cameron Reginald Frye, we find him innocent of voluntary manslaughter against Cornelius Frye, and accept the ruling of suicide." The foreman took her seat again, a slight smile on her face.

June's mind went blank.

Her eyes opened wide, she could feel her pulse in her eye lashes, her fingernails, her shoulder blades, every part of her felt as though it was going into shock. She let the breath out she didn't realize she was holding and blinked repeatedly. It did nothing to clear her mind.

She was innocent. They were _all _innocent.

She hadn't realized it, but she had been preparing for the worst. She had unconsciously assumed that there was no way they'd win this, and she'd started to plan her future around her prison sentence.

June looked behind her. Sloane was crying tears of joy, and hugging Jeannie, who seemed to be tolerating it, for now. Melrose was crying too, with Jerry trying to comfort her. Regina Frye was smiling, an expression June had yet to see on the woman's face until this moment.

Ferris had risen to his feet, having recovered from the preliminary shock, to be found grinning ear to ear.

m m m

The court was dismissed, for the final time, that day.

The defendants didn't leave immediately, though.

June hugged both of her parents joyously, finally recovering from her own stupor. She was hugged by Tom and Katie, too, and even Regina gave her a weak hug. Sloane and Ferris were making out, with Jeannie looking slight nauseated a few feet away.

June met Roz in the middle of the room, and they hugged quickly.

"I feel like we haven't talked in forever." Roz told her. "So much has happened."

June nodded. She'd neglected her friend, ever since the day she'd driven over to Cameron's house, and this whole mess had begun.

"I'm sorry. But things happened so fast..."

"Jesus, girl! I'm not mad at you. This whole thing was fucking insane. I'm just saying we should catch up soon, once you're back in school."

June smiled, relieved. "Ok."

**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update, but her you go. We're nearing the end. Please review! :)**


	15. Nothing Left to Say, Except Everything

They stayed an extra day in the city before heading back to school.

It was a Friday, a crisp morning in Chicago. The skies were clear, and their was a breeze flowing through the Windy City. It was just the three of them, sitting at a metal table at an outdoor cafe. For the first time in a while, June's posture was not nervously straight, but relaxed. She was even smiling, like a normal teenager.

"This is kind of amazing." She said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"That's just what I was thinking." Ferris smiled. "We're pretty fucking lucky, if I do say so myself."

"Shit, yeah." June replied. She looked at Cameron, wearing his Gordie Howe Red Wings jersey, something he seemed to always have with him. "You agree, Cameron?"

He met her eyes, but said nothing, to no one's surprise.

A waiter came over.

"Cappuccino, please." June said.

"Same." Ferris told the guy.

"Just a coffee."

The waiter had already wandered off to fill their orders when they realized where the voice had come from. June choked on her preliminary water, eyes opening wide. Ferris froze, he didn't seem to be breathing.

They both turned to look at Cameron with equal expressions of shock on their faces.

"Holy fuck." June muttered. "Cameron...did you just...did you...?"

"Hi," He said.

June carefully set down her glass of water, and then sprung forward the hug him tightly. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry with joy. She was shaking with both as she burrowed into his neck. Ferris joined them, and made a group hug.

m m m

It was Ferris's idea, of course, to have a party.

It was late May by the time they got their shit together long enough to actually do it, but when it did come together, it was the social event of the season. Everyone knew Ferris Bueller, so everyone was invited. They were calling it an end of the year party, and quite a year it had been. It was to be an epic party, hosted in Ferris's backyard, which was green and lush with a pool.

Cameron barely ventured back to his own house, mostly spending time at June's. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see he was screwed up. But they were confident he would heal. People had gotten through worse. That didn't make it any easier, but it gave hope, at least. He was starting to smile more already.

He never told them the full story of what happened the day Cornelius came calling that day with a shotgun and will. They knew he could never murder someone. He didn't have anything to say otherwise.

As people show up on the Saturday afternoon, it was clear that people had brought along more than just plus one. Soon the yard was filled with teenagers. June secured a lawn chair, where she pulled on a pair of Ray Bans and stretched out to nap. She had never been terribly enthusiastic about parties, and to be honest, these days, she felt as though she couldn't get enough of time just to sit still and think about things.

Sloane was at her left, reading a magazine, but also being social, and Roz was on her left, cuddling with David in a chair that was definitely not built to fit two people. Occasionally June was greeted by arriving guests, a new experience. After the whole uproar regarding the trial, people were starting to recognize her as more than just that quiet girl. She wasn't hugely popular, and seeing as she'd be graduating in less than a month, it didn't make a huge difference, but it suited her interests well.

She also suspected the hair made her more recognizable, too.

Tired of dealing with shoulder length hair, she had gotten it cut close to her head, styled in an easy fashion. Then, on an act of impulse, dyed it all scarlet red. She knew she must look ridiculous, though no one said that to her face, but she was okay with it. The last few weeks of senior year should be spent doing whatever the fuck you want, she reasoned.

It must have been an hour later, that she noticed it had gotten quiet. By the time she lifted up her glasses, opening her eyes, it was too late.

She was seized under the arms, and dragged across the concrete, before easily being tossed into the pool, still in her clothes. She took a breath before she hit the water of the deep-end, and let herself sink to the very bottom, not moving, and stayed under, instead of rising to the surface to yell at Cameron and Ferris.

_Let them panic,_ she thought, _serves them right._ At least, she hoped they were panicking.

Her lungs were starting to protest, when she felt an arm slipped around her waist. She didn't know who it was, her eyes were tightly squinted shut against the chlorinated water.

She let herself go limp as she was lifted from the water, on to the tiled poolside. She was about to crack up, any second now, but she just needed to maintain composure for a few seconds.

There was a stunned silence from the party guests. No one dared to move, to shocked to call the ambulance, lucky for June. She _really_ didn't need any more police attention.

"Oh my god!" Ferris cried.

"June!" She felt a hand on her face, on her solar plex.

"What've we done?" Cameron's voice was filled with panic. June figured this was her cue.

Her eyes sprung open, and directed a simultaneous punch to both of their chests. Normally, it wouldn't have moved them, but she took advantage of their shocked state. They both went tumbling back into the pool, and she knew she would remember their comically surprised faces for a long time after.

By the time Cameron and Ferris fought their way back out of the water again, the rest of the party goers had recovered from their shock, and were laughing out loud. June had satisfied smile on her face as she tried to wring out her t-shirt.

"That was so mean." Cameron said.

"Yeah, really." Ferris agreed with a pointed look at Cameron. "I knew you guys were going out for a reason. Your similarities are uncanny." He grumbled, stalking away.

"Love you too, Ferris." June called after him. She turned to Cameron, fixing him with a gaze that was a mixture of gentle and sarcastic. "Forgive me. Come on." She put her arms around him, laid her head on his chest. "Just a joke, you know."

After a moment, she felt him hug her back.

It wasn't long before Ferris got sick of seeing them cuddle, and promptly pushed them into the pool. Down in the cool depths, they kissed until their lungs screamed for air.

m m m

The summer had begun, not just in terms of climate, but the summer that every kid worshipped.

Except the seniors, of course, most of them were about ready to curl up and die from nerves.

Ferris had gotten into Brown, in Providence, Rhode Island. His parents told him he couldn't turn down the offer if he intended them to pay for his college. To some extent, though, he knew he would be stupid to pass up an Ivy League, no matter how far away it was.

Cameron applied to one university, and only one. The guidance counselor told him he had his pick of schools. Cameron, who had just barely come to school the required amount of days, had tested off the charts. He, in essence, was a varitable genius, if he wanted to be. He applied to Princeton. Within three days he had a reply that practically begged him to come to their school.

Roz applied to Stanford, University of Chicago, and University of Phoenix. She got into Chicago and Phoenix, but only Phoenix gave her a full athletic scholarship. She knew she couldn't turn it down.

Sloane still had a year of high school. She was not pleased by this fact.

June was not exemplary in school work, and definitely no in athletics, and nor was she exceptionally charismatic. The counsellors told her straight—she shouldn't expect much.

So she decided to go into art, seeing as she wasn't good at anything else. And since Cameron and Ferris were headed to New England, she applied to schools with strong art programs in New Jersey. Rutgers University had a relatively new program, but it was separate and intense, called the Mason Gross School of the Arts, and lucky for her, she got in. She wasn't scholarship worthy, but with only one kid her parents had saved long enough it wasn't too much of an issue. She figured being in the same state as Cameron was a whole lot better than going to some dirt cheap school in some forgotten state.

At some point in the month of July, the five were together, lying about or swimming in the pool in Ferris's yard. It had become a preferred spot among all students who would be leaving in just a few short months, and Ferris had grown used to seeing people he barely knew lounging around his yard. It didn't bother him, but by September he was sure that he would be less than willing to leave the gate open.

June, wisely, had put her bathing suit on, and was eyeing the overcast sky with suspicion. It seemed a summer thunderstorm was on its way. She decided to cool off quickly, and made a clean dive into the six feet end of the pool.

When she came up a few seconds later for air, she saw Ferris and Sloane were arguing again.

For the last few weeks, Sloane had been possessed by the idea that she shouldn't finish high school, and instead move out to Providence with Ferris. She reasoned that he could get his degree and she would work and then he would get a good job and wouldn't matter whether she had finished high school or not.

Ferris argued against this, saying that she needed to finish her education, no matter how matronly that made him sound. She retorted that he was just trying to rid of her. Then Ferris would deny it, and sigh, and then they'd kiss and start the argument all over the next day. It was so routine June had stopped listening, it was like they were reading a script.

Having never been a fan of water, June climbed out a few minutes later. Her eye make up had run, and her short hair stood up at strange angles as she strode over to where Cameron sat on a lawn chair. He was reading the Princeton information packet cover to cover for the fifth time that week, even though a good two thirds of it was common sense or didn't apply to the average student.

"You gotta relax, Cam." She told him as he scooted over to make room for her in the chair. He was just starting to dry off, but welcomed the feel of her cold skin.

"I'm not stressed." He said unconvincingly. "I just wanna know stuff."

"It's scary, I know." She said, once they were settled, a towel stretched around both their shoulders. She laid her head against his neck. "Moving to New England and all. But we'll be okay."

"I trust you."

"I'd be sad if you didn't, but I'd still be right at your side. I love you."

"Love you more."

There might have been more said, but just then Sloane let out an animal-like cry, and burst into tears. The rest of their quiet conversation was lost.

Cameron and June exchanged a look, unable to make head or tails of what was going on on the other side of the yard. Sloane was smiling.

"What the fuck?" June muttered.

"So?" Ferris was holding something small in his hand, it twinkled in the light, but they couldn't make it out from their vantage point.

"Yes! Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" Sloane cried, and tackled Ferris in a hug. Roz clapped and whistled. Cameron and June rose to their feet to join the party after exchanging smiles.

"I'm not sure this solves their separation problem." Cameron told her.

"I think its the promise that matters." She replied. Sloane knew that Ferris wasn't leaving her. The ring just proved that.

Sloane and Ferris were now engaged in a passionate lip lock, which ended when Cameron and June arrived on their side of the pool. June hugged a nearly hysterical with happiness Sloane, while Cameron and Ferris hugged quickly, like the brothers they considered themselves to be.

June grinned. This was good.

It was later, after much celebration, that the rain began to pour down. June threw on Cameron's Gordie Howe jersey over her bathing suit. It hem reached past her mid thighs, the sleeves a full inch past her fingertips.

She grabbed Cameron's hand, and they waved to a still glowing Ferris and Sloane as they sprinted toward June's truck. Roz hugged her quickly before bolting for her sedan, parked nearby.

June heaved herself into the driver's seat; Cameron held onto her bicep while she slammed the door shut. The weight of the door would drag her right back out of the truck again if she didn't properly anchor herself, or have someone there to keep her in place.

They pulled on their seat belts, and June turned the key. As the lobster boat engine roared to life, she let it idle for a moment, and exchanged a long smile with the boy sitting next to her.

**Author's Note: That's the end! Hope you guys liked it! Please Review! :)**


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